


Past Midnight, Drunk on Purple Wine

by anarchycox



Series: Anarchycox's 2019 Personal Writing Challenge [11]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Angst, Coping Mechanisms, Drunk Sex, M/M, bad relationships, merlin/harry - Freeform, sort of but not really infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 17:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18211145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox
Summary: Q and Merlin get together once a month to drink and bitch about their agents. They have a lot to bitch about, and things change and choices have to be made.





	Past Midnight, Drunk on Purple Wine

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [He Called You By Your Real Name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18148070) by [elrhiarhodan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan). 



The thing that made Q befriend Merlin so quickly was that when they met, Merlin didn’t mention Q’s age once. It was a rare thing in their business. He had asked Merlin once why he never commented on it, and Merlin’s response had simply been,  _ why would I care, so long as you can do the job? _ He appreciated the pragmatism. He had expected more pragmatists in espionage. Instead he was surrounded by dreamers and mad men. It was exhausting. If it wasn’t for the once a month drink with Merlin he would kill them all.

The thing that made Merlin befriend Q so quickly was he built a bloody brilliant gun and didn’t yell. He had a soft voice that could be mistaken for too gentle, by those foolish enough not to hear the steel in his throat. Merlin liked the softness, he was surrounded so often by chaos and braggarts that it was nice to chat with someone who kept even. He had expected the Kingsman gentlemen to be gentlemen. But he was mere staff, and they seldom bothered with him. If it wasn’t for the once a month drink with Q, he would have become a super villain.

Three years now, they met once a month for a drink. It had started as a drink in a nondescript bar, both pretending to like beer or whisky, and both trying to act like their agents who frustrated them, and they secretly loved and despised in equal measure. And one night Q had a headache, and Merlin took the man back to his flat and made him tea, and rubbed his temples, realizing his glasses were too tight. He adjusted them, and Q fell asleep on his couch.

The quiet was much better and the drink switched from pints to tea, or sometimes fruit wine. They both had an enjoyment of its sweetness. They occasionally missed their monthly drink on the third Thursday of the month, but they sometimes arranged missions around it and sometimes even availed themselves of their well trained staff and took the night off. It was a thing they had in common - no one else was as good as them.

The first time they got drunk was when MI-6 declared Bond dead. Everyone was being solemn and Q was just pissed. He was pacing in Merlin’s flat, the most animated and loud that Merlin had ever seen him. It was off putting, but understandable. He was hurting. Merlin wasn’t the best at comfort, but he would try, for his friend.

“He’s not dead,” Merlin offered.

“I know that!” Q yelled, “but everyone is so sure that this time is the one that will stick and are all mopey and shutting files. Do you know how long it takes to put everything back in order when he returns?”

“Three days,” Merlin replied with a shrug. “Thereabouts, though we are a less...monitored organization than you.”

“Five,” Q said and finished the wine from the bottle. “Do we have another?”

They did. “No,” Merlin said, “Sorry. The sugar will cause a bad enough headache in the morning.”

“I will not be hungover. James fucking Bond will not make me hungover with his ill timed, not death death.” Q pointed the wine bottle at Merlin. “You are holding out on me.”

“Of course I am,” Merlin stood up and took the wine bottle from Q. “I’ll make you a cuppa.” He squeezed Q’s shoulder and made a noise as Q pulled him in for a kiss. Q was tipsy enough that it missed Merlin’s mouth and pressed too hard against his cheek. Merlin gently pushed Q back. “I’ll get you a cuppa,” his voice was gentle and the hand that moved to Q’s jaw even more so.

“I’m not as drunk as you think, and I know what I am doing,” Q said. “Or is this when you finally comment on my age?”

“No, this is where I comment that you are in love with Bond, and he will be back,” Merlin said. “And you sobriety is questionable enough.”  Merlin headed to the kitchen.

“They get to make bad decisions all the time. Why don’t we?” Q asked. “I want to make just one bad decision with someone I can trust. I want to make that wrong call, know it is the wrong call, and deal with the consequences later, just like them. Why can’t we?”

Merlin went back to Q, close enough to touch, but he didn’t, knew in that moment he shouldn’t. “Because we are good men. And good men don’t do that sort of thing.”

Q looked so young and so ancient in that moment. “Aren’t you fucking tired of being the good men, the better men. The ones who -”

Merlin was the one to initiate the kiss this time, and he had enough drunk sex experience to press his lips against Q’s and soon it reached the point where they both knew they would make the bad decision that night and for the first time in either of their lives they did not care. They were both used to sleeping with high functioning alcoholics who had seduced their way across continents. They were both used to incredible and perfect sex.

Q got stuck in his shirt, Merlin fell off the bed, there was no lube, and Merlin only got half hard thanks to the alcohol. But it mattered more than their recent experiences. It mattered because it was them, and solace. Because it was a bad decision with the right person, or a good decision at the wrong time, or just because it was a decision of their own.

After the experience was over Q began to laugh.

“What is so terribly funny?” Merlin asked.

“That was just the worst.” Q draped himself over Merlin. “I haven’t had bad sex since Bond, and that was just dreadful.”

“Trust me, I am used to Harry, your performance was indeed lacking.” Merlin smiled when this made Q giggle some more. “But that never happens.”

“What?”

“Laughing in bed. Sex is so dreadfully important to him. He is performing, even when he isn’t on stage. It is so tiring sometimes,” Merlin said. “I asked him once, to relax, and he didn’t speak to me for three months.”

“Bond is focused. So very focused, but it is this autopilot focus? I can’t even explain. I wonder what he is thinking about when he makes me scream his name. I wonder if he even remembers what mine is.”

“I know your name,” Merlin said softly.

“And I know yours,” Q agreed. “I need to go throw up now.”

“Go ahead.” Merlin’s phone rang. “Harry,” he said after a moment. “No I’m not busy at all.” He listened with only one ear to Harry and the other was listening to Q who was being sick. When Q came back out he took one look at the phone and the sad smile on Merlin’s face. He gave a nod and dressed. He called a cab and went home.

The next month when Q came over everyone was still in shock that Bond had returned. “Paper work took six fucking days,” Q moaned. “Because he of course returned in a stupidly spectacular way.”

“They always do,” Merlin agreed. He poured them both some hot chocolate and when Q gave him a deadpan look he added some brandy to it. “I told Harry about our bad decision.”

“And?”

“He didn’t care. Or well,” Merlin tried to find the right words, “he cared, but not in a bad way. He thought it was good, I had someone else to fuck.”

“Haven’t had a chance to tell Bond yet, he is still in post death evaluation,” Q said. “He’ll have a similar response. Fidelity is not a thing for us. Can’t be with the job.”

“No, of course,” Merlin agreed.

“Besides, not like it was good sex,” Q said. “Barely worth remembering.”

“Indeed,” Merlin agreed and drank his doctored hot chocolate. “May I complain about the half million pounds worth of tech that my agents fried this week?”

“Please do,” Q said and they chose to forget about their bad decision.

It was three months later and Merlin had clearly started drinking before Q had arrived. “Harry dressed me down in front of my staff,” Merlin explained.

“Why, that is ungentlemanly?”

“Tech didn’t work exactly how he wanted, even though he had been warned it wouldn’t do as he wanted,” Merlin sat in the corner of his couch. Q sat across from him. “He did that oh so polite voice they do.”

“The cold one, that freezes your heart. Makes you remember no matter what they say in bed, how they see you at work? That’s how they really see you.”

“Aye,” Merlin agreed. “He came to me later and apologized of course.”

“Not in public.”

“No, never in public,” Merlin said. “25 years, Q. And this is who he makes me.”

Q heard the warning in Merlin’s voice. “Bond and I are different than you too. I wouldn’t put up with that much pain.”

“It becomes a habit, a drug. You become used to the pain, and when you don’t have it you wonder what is wrong with you.”

“How much do you hate yourself?” Q asked.

“Resigned with myself,” Merlin said after a moment. “You’ll get there eventually.” He looked at Q. “Be better than me. Please.”

“There is no one better than you, Mack.”

“Jonathan, may we please make a bad decision?”

“Will fucking me, show Harry up, somehow?”

“I was rather hoping you’d fuck me to be honest,” Merlin replied. He went to his bedroom and was relieved that Q followed him. It was better this time, Merlin wasn’t drunk yet, and Q was perfectly sober. He fucked so differently than Harry, he couldn’t say it was better, but it was different. And he didn’t feel hollow after as he so often did with Harry. “You are quite skilled.”

“I’m okay, seldom asked to top. People don’t seem to view me that way.”

“I view ye many ways.”

“I don’t want to be you,” Q said. “Sorry to say that after the decent shag. But I don’t want to become you.”

“Then don’t,” Merlin replied and rolled over and buried himself in the blankets. Q saw himself out and didn’t return for 3 months.

When he did, he was soaking wet, and shivering. “I can’t anymore. I quit the job.”

“Jonathan,” Merlin looked at him stunned, and pulled him into the flat. He put on the kettle and stripped the lad down. He put him in fuzzy socks and warm pajamas and when they went to the couch, he hugged Q. He wondered why in their few years of drinking and coping they had never really hugged. Q was boney and small for all his height, but he tucked into Merlin well. They slotted together. “You love your job.”

“I do, but if I stay, I will just be chipped away again and again. I have to go on the run.” Q sniffled. “I gave away my cats, Mack.”

That was how Merlin knew the man was deadly serious. “Why on the run?”

“Tell me they won’t sanction me with all the knowledge in my head?” Q pulled away and looked at him. “Tell me I’m not a perceived threat. Even though I would never betray Queen and Country, they can’t take that risk. In their position I would order my death. I have ordered deaths. So I’ll disappear. They’ll think they can find me. That he could find me. But that would require him paying more attention that he ever did.” Q stood up. “I just wanted to say goodbye. You were...befriending you was the best bad decision of my life. Although this might be it out.”

Merlin’s phone rang and Q gave a smile. Only one person would interrupt what was known as Merlin’s night off. Merlin automatically answered. “Hello? Yes, Harry, of course I have the time for you.” Q gave him a smile and a nod and started for the door. “Actually, sir, I don’t have the time. I quit.” Merlin hung up.

“What did you just do?” Q stared at him in shock. “Mack, you shouldn’t have done that.”

Merlin looked at the phone and quickly took off his Kingsman glasses. “I…” He looked at Q. “Oh fuck.”

“Call him back, say it was a joke,” Q urged. He knew the Kingsman would be even more ruthless about ending Merlin than MI-6 would be to him. “He’ll be mad but -”

“I am done,” Merlin realized. “This was my end point. You were my end point.”

“No,” Q went to pick up the phone. “We can change this.”

“I don’t want it changed,” Merlin felt oddly at peace. “Let them come, and let this be the end.”

Q went over and punched Merlin and then kissed him. “No,” he begged, “They’ve had enough of you. They don’t get this too. Make one more bad decision.”

“What decision is that?”

“To run with me?” Q looked at him. “On the run with my friend, that would be lovely. Don’t you think?”

“They’ll catch us and it will be unpleasant.”

“You think those idiots could really catch you and I, if we didn’t want to be caught?” Q smiled at him. “You really think Harry or James could actually catch us?”

“I have a secret car,” Merlin admitted. “In a garage in the east end.”

“I have several interesting and shady bank accounts,” Q promised. “Mack, aren’t you tired of sacrificing everything for them?”

“Being on the run occasionally will mean flying,” Merlin warned Q.

“Then I’ll fly. But I want to live.” Q shrugged. “Live with me?”

Merlin went to the bedroom and hit the false wall and grabbed the bag he had hidden there. “Do you think we even make it three months?”

“We’ll find out won’t we?” They could hear feet running up the stairs. “Mack?”

Merlin opened his bedroom window and when he hit the sill an invisible ladder materialized. They both hurried down and disappeared into the night.

It was a bad decision to run from the world’s best and most dangerous men.

But they were together. They had a chance.


End file.
